The Stranger - Max Frei [193]
The monologue of the Head of Customs threatened to go on indefinitely, but Sir Kofa thought of a way to dam up the torrent of words, if only temporarily.
“Are you going to make us wait out here forever, or will you invite us into your office?”
“Oh, it’s not much of an office, really. Look here, Kofa. It’s a pantry, a storage room, not an office. This is where half the confiscated goods end up, since storing the junk elsewhere is too dangerous. And the fellows from Jafax can’t be bothered with nonsense like that. It’s a vicious circle. Soon I’ll have to start receiving guests right at the docks. Well, I’ll just set my chair down there and . . . oh, did you know our Kaffa Xani had become a captain? I suspect he’ll join the pirates and end up on the gallows in some Tasher jungle or remote Shishin Caliphate. But that’s how it goes. What sense is there in being a sailor if you don’t ship contraband? It’s foolish, that’s what it is. I don’t understand people like that. All the same, Sir Kofa, it’s splendid that you dropped by for a visit—though I don’t believe for a minute that’s the only reason you came to see me. I’m right on target, aren’t I?”
“Of course you are, Nulli. But perhaps you’ll offer us some kamra and keep quiet for three minutes? I’d never think of requesting five, I realize that’s out of the question. Well, are you finished?”
“But of course! They’ll bring us kamra directly. What kind do you prefer, Max? Local or Irrashi? Or maybe you’re a fan of Arvarox kamra? Though I think they already drank that up. The boys in this outfit do nothing but drink kamra—and from such enormous mugs.” He spread his small arms out wide to illustrate this phenomenon. I was duly impressed.
“If you aren’t exaggerating, Sir Nulli, the poor fellows must be hard at work,” I said. “It’s even hard to fathom the existence of a mug that big.”
“Certainly, Sir Max. We’re not playing the fool here. Those lads have to sweat,” said the remarkable fellow, without missing a beat. “I must say, though, the pay here is quite good. That same Kaffa Xani worked all of three years for us, and he’s already managed to hire a ship. Didn’t I tell you? Now he’ll sneak in contraband, and I’ll have to catch him. Magnificent! Ah, here’s the kamra.”
Sir Nulli sniffed the contents of the jug and launched into another flood of words.
“That’s Irrashi. It’s actually rubbish; but then, it’s imported. Where else can you get anything like that? Help yourselves, gentlemen. Though I’d prefer to just pour it out, I’m so sick of it. Well, if it isn’t old Tyoovin!” Nulli gestured toward the corner of his office, filled to the brim with all manner of bales and bundles, where a blurry white spot was just visible. “Sir Max, you haven’t yet met our Tyoovin. Let me introduce you to my predecessor, Sir Tyoovin Salivava, who was killed in the fifty-second year of the Code Epoch when he attempted a raid on the most famous smuggler of the Epoch of Orders. A great man, when all is said and done. I don’t remember his real name. They called him the ‘White Bird,’ and sometimes ‘Slippery Sun.’ Smugglers have always been a romantic bunch. But the fellow didn’t survive the brawl. Old man Tyoovin was a sight to behold. If he hadn’t had so much to drink that night, White Bird would never have caught him. Marvelous, don’t you think?”
“So, you mean he’s a ghost?” I interjected, staring incredulously, staring at the distant blur.
“Of course he’s a ghost. What else could he be? The old man’s not in very good shape today. By that I mean that Tyoovin usually appears with a completely human outline. I guess he’s feeling shy. Actually, Mr. Salivava was so drunk when they killed him that his ghost is never fully aware of what’s going on. But he’s a fine fellow. He’s a big help to me. It’s enough for him to materialize in front of some dapper, jaunty captain and bark, ‘Worthless nincompoops!’, and the chap starts spilling all his secrets at once, without any effort on our part. I can just go to sleep, which is usually exactly what